


The Proposal

by heartofstanding



Series: Modern Plantagenets [1]
Category: 14th Century CE RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-27 18:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofstanding/pseuds/heartofstanding
Summary: Henry really, really wants to marry Mary. He really, really wants his proposal to go well. The universe has other ideas.





	The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet began life as a conversation between shredsandpatches/angevin2 and myself about how a socially anxious Henry IV was probably lucky that he didn't have to ask Mary marry him and then devolved into speculation about how a modern AU Henry would have coped.

‘What do you mean, _you’ve lost the reservation_?’ Henry hissed down into the phone. ‘I booked it _last July!_ You all laughed at me because_ no one books ahead that far in advance! _I even offered to pay a deposit! I rang _last week _to confirm!’

‘We’re very sorry, sir, but there must’ve been a computer malfunction,’ said the guy on the phone. ‘Or an error. We’ll make it up to you, of course—’

‘I don’t care about you _making it up to me_,’ Henry said, forcing his voice to stay level. Mary was in the shower but she’d hear if he started yelling. ‘I need a table for two tonight.’

‘It’s Valentine’s Day, sir.’

‘I fucking know what fucking day it is. Why do you think I _had a booking?_’

‘Right, but see, the thing is, it’s Valentine’s Day and, I’m sorry, sir, but we’re completely booked up—’

Henry clenched his hands into fists, tried to practice the deep breathing exercise one of his old teachers gave him to do before making a speech. _Calms the nerves, soothes anger, centres the body, _she’d said. It wasn’t helping.

Right, but see, the thing is, Henry wanted to say, I’m supposed to be proposing to my girlfriend tonight. I already paid the violinist and I’ve got the ring in my suit pocket and we were going to have a wonderful time but _you fucked it up. _You’re all booked up but until today, apparently, we _had_ a fucking booking you cretin.

He didn’t say any of that. He made an indecipherable noise of fury and hung up. There had to be one nice restaurant that had a table available. That would do.

*

There weren’t any. He had gone through the phonebook, he had called every single one and been laughed at or abused or just politely told to sod off. The best he could find was the buffet where they’d gotten food poisoning once, so that was out. The next best thing was a pub or a McDonalds. He didn’t want to propose to Mary in a McDonalds. He supposed he didn’t have to propose tonight – he hadn’t told anyone but Mary’s mother and only then because he thought she’d kill him if he didn’t ask permission first – but he’d spent _over a year _trying to plan it out.

And panicking about it. Mostly panicking. _What if Mary said no? _He didn’t think she would but what if she did? He’d even briefly considered asking Richard for advice though he knew it’d end up with Richard turning around and yelling at Mary, _hey do you want to marry this loser? _Which was pretty much how Henry and Mary had gone on a date first time. Not that Henry had _asked _Richard for help then, no, Richard had just taken it upon himself to turn around and yell _Henry Lancaster fancies you _at Mary. He would never forgive Richard for that even though it turned out to be the best day in his life because Mary had gone bright red but came to sit beside Henry and asked if it was true. They’d held hands (!) all through lunch even though it made eating awkward.

It’d be four years this September and he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone but her.

He wanted to marry her. He just didn’t want to have to ask her.

Her brother-in-law said, last year after finding out they’d spent their third anniversary on the sofa eating leftovers (_they had exams_), that Henry didn’t show Mary how much he cared about her and Henry, trying to work up the nerve to at least look in a jewellery store for engagement rings (because he obviously needed one to propose), thought, _right, time to do this right. _Do it on Valentine’s Day, follow every cliché in the book. Make it properly romantic. Make Mary see how much he loved her.

He’d tried and failed. The evening was a disaster. The stress was already bad enough that his psoriasis had flared up. Mary didn’t mind but _he did _and _she didn’t know what he had planned. _She didn’t know he was going to ask her to marry her and, when they took photos to celebrate their engagement, he’d look like a fucking mess, scabby and shiny with ointment. And their booking had been lost which meant the violinist wasn’t coming and he didn’t have a waiter ready to take the ring from him and bring it out with dessert (because if Mary said no, he didn’t want the whole evening ruined).

*

The bathroom door opened and Mary came out in her bathrobe, holding her hairdryer in one hand. She was beautiful even though she was flushed from the heat of the bathroom – the exhaust fan didn’t really work – and her hair was wrapped up in an old towel. She beamed at him.

‘It’s all yours,’ she said, racing over to hug him and kissing his cheek. ‘How fancy is this place again?’

‘Um,’ Henry said.

‘Never mind, I’ll just aim to look pretty.’

‘You already are,’ he said.

Mary giggled and kissed him again. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘Now, scoot. You said the booking is at seven?’

‘Yeah. I love you too,’ Henry said weakly.

*

He shaved and then showered in a sort of mindless trance, like he was on automatic, and then stared at his reflection while he carefully dabbed on a new layer of ointment and pulled on his bathrobe. He’d have to ask Mary to do his back but he might wait until tonight, when they were back from dinner and – _oh God._

He sank down on the edge of the bathtub and covered his face with his hands. Oh God, there was going to be _no dinner _because the restaurant had _lost his booking _and everywhere else was _full _and the evening was _ruined _and Mary was getting ready, _aiming to look pretty, _and somewhere along the way he’d have to _tell her _that he had _fucked up _and there was no fancy dinner waiting for them and he had the ring in his suit pocket and it was profoundly and deeply screwed up. He’d tried _so hard _and it was _ruined._

He was crying, deep, gulping sobs and he didn’t want to cry, he wanted to be angry, he wanted to be smart enough to _fix things _but everything was wrong. He’d tried so hard and Mary deserved a beautiful evening and a beautiful proposal and he’d screwed up and ruined everything.

‘Henry?’ Mary’s voice was against the bathroom door. ‘Henry? Are you alright?’

He couldn’t even begin to answer, just sobbed louder. She tapped against the door again.

‘You better be decent,’ she said. ‘Because I’m coming in.’

The door cracked open and she was in, and he looked at her, this woman he loved, and wanted to smile because she was beautiful and silly. She was wearing her little black dress with flowers on it and her fluffy slippers.

‘Henry? What’s happened? What’s wrong?’

Henry shook his head. She crossed over to him and wrapped her arms around him.

‘The restaurant lost our booking and everywhere else is full except for the all-you-can-vomit buffet and McDonalds.’

‘Oh,’ Mary said. ‘Oh, right. That’s okay, though, Henry, we can have a night in.’

‘No, no it’s not, I _tried so hard _and it got completely fucked up and everything.’

‘It’s just dinner—’

‘It’s not, I had everything planned, I paid for a _violinist, _Mary!’

‘What on earth for?’

‘I was gonna ask you to marry me,’ he mumbled. ‘I made the booking last July! I saved up for a ring and bought it and I didn’t know your size and had to guess and I rang the restaurant last week and confirmed and even spoke about having a waiter bringing the ring to the table with champagne or dessert or _something _and some poor sod is going to be turning up at the restaurant with his violin and won’t know where I am or who he’s playing for and that’s fifty quid I’ll never see again. It’s ruined, it’s all ruined, Mary.’

Mary was quiet, but she kept rubbing circles on his back. ‘Oh, you silly man,’ she said. ‘You silly, silly man. Asking me in the bathroom, in your bathrobe, would be perfect if you weren’t crying and covered in ointment because you stressed yourself out.’

‘The restaurant _lost _our booking,’ he said, feeling it was important to restate that. He hadn’t fucked that bit up, they had. ‘And I forgot what the other restaurant you liked was but I rang them all and they’re all booked out and some of them were quite rude when I asked if they had a table—’

‘Henry,’ Mary said. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m saying yes.’

‘And I hope you like the ring – I mean, I think it’s pretty and the woman said we could exchange it if you didn’t like it. And we can get it resized. I dunno, I guess we can go to the pub?’

Mary sat down next to him, still keeping her arms around him. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t I put ointment on your back and then I’ll get into my bathrobe while you call for takeaway? Do you fancy pizza or Chinese?’

‘Oh,’ Henry said.

‘Henry, cheer up,’ Mary said. ‘I want to marry you!’

He began to cry again.

*

When he had finished crying and was brave enough to look at Mary, she cupped his face and kissed him firmly. Then she made him take off his bathrobe and stand there in his undies while she rubbed ointment into his back which was honestly a relief because it was beginning to itch quite badly. She washed her hands and kissed him and he hugged her tight.

‘I love you so much,’ he told her. ‘I don’t always show it—’

‘Oh stop,’ Mary said. ‘It’s pretty obvious you adore me.’

‘It is?’

‘Yes.’

Mary was smiling up at him, so radiant and beautiful and he drew her close enough to kiss her again. She pulled back with a sigh.

‘Come on, show me this ring?’

‘Right!’ Henry said. He took a deep breath and raced into the bedroom to snag the box out of his suit pocket and raced back to Mary, getting down on his knee.

‘Oh!’ Mary said, her hand covering her mouth.

She looked like she was going to cry which was fine. He’d cried twice already so she could definitely cry, especially if they were happy tears. He took another deep breath and wanted to cry again because even though he knew that she’d say yes, he couldn’t get over how much he wanted her to say yes and how much he wanted to ask her without babbling the question.

‘Mary, will you please marry me?’

‘Of course, you silly, beautiful man,’ she said and started crying.

Henry wasn’t sure if he was supposed to stay on his knees until she took the ring but he couldn’t just do nothing while she cried. He shuffled forward on his knees and hugged her legs.

‘I’m sorry this isn’t as good as I wanted it to be,’ he said. ‘Or as good as you deserve. You’d think I could’ve put my bathrobe back on first.’

Mary let out an explosive, wet laugh and hugged him tightly. ‘This is perfect, honestly.’

She knelt down next to him and took the jewellery box, opening it up. Henry bit his lip and watched her face, hoping the ring was alright. He hadn’t had any help picking it, apart from the sales assistant, but he had his notes from when he’d asked Anne (who’d asked _Richard, _God) for help getting Mary a nice set of earrings. Mary wasn’t showy so enormous stones or ornate, giant flowery settings were out, she preferred timeless over trendy but something with its own style rather than _classic. _Anne’s main input was pointing out that Mary wore a lot of yellow or rose gold so he should avoid platinum and white gold. His father would have a fit if he bought something without diamonds or with coloured stones so plain diamonds it was though Anne would lecture him for it. He thought the ring was pretty but he didn’t know whether Mary would.

‘If you don’t like it,’ he said, ‘we can exchange it.’

‘Henry, it’s _beautiful,_’ Mary said. ‘It’s perfect.’ She picked the ring out of its nest of velvet and then paused, holding it out to him. ‘Put it on me?’

‘Oh, God, yes,’ he said.

He took the ring in his hand and carefully slipped it onto Mary’s finger, kissing the back of her hand when he was done. They both stared down at the ring and they were crying again. It fitted, perfectly, and he was pleased that it looked so much better than he’d imagined on Mary’s finger. The delicate rose gold band, the large, square diamond (the assistant called it _a princess _cut) at the centre with a sweep of smaller, rounder diamonds to the right and a single small diamond on the left.

‘I love you so much,’ Mary said. ‘This is perfect.’

*

They were sitting on the sofa in their bathrobes feeding each other sweet and sour pork while a movie played in the background. Henry had to admit that it was probably nicer than if the restaurant hadn’t lost their booking and they’d gone and eaten. He was able to eat without feeling sick, they were curled up close and they were in their underwear underneath their bathrobes which meant they had very little to take off when it was time to go to bed.

Mary set down her chopsticks. ‘Did you tell anyone about proposing?’

‘Only your mum,’ Henry said. ‘I thought she might kill me if I didn’t.’

‘Probably,’ Mary said. ‘Did she help you set things up?’

He shook his head. ‘Nah. I only… only told her last month.’

‘Poor sweetie,’ she said and leant over to kiss him. ‘I suppose that’s why she wants to meet for lunch tomorrow. See how it all went. See the ring.’

She looked down at the ring on her finger, beaming.

‘And probably to make sure I didn’t force you to say yes and didn’t fuck it up.’

‘I’ll tell her the restaurant lost our booking but it was still magical,’ Mary said. ‘No one needs to know the details, like you proposing in your undies.’

‘Hey, they’re romantic. You bought me these undies.’

‘Oh, did I? Let me see!’ Laughing, she reached over and flipped back Henry’s bathrobe. ‘Oh, yes, I did. They were on sale. _Very _nice.’

He laughed and pulled her close enough to kiss.

‘Henry,’ Mary murmured. ‘Why on earth did you hire a violinist, though?’

‘Thomas said that I don’t – don’t appreciate you, enough.’

‘Thomas is a bloody idiot. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ Henry said. ‘But I worried…’

Mary leant in and kissed him again. ‘Are you still hungry? Because I was thinking we could move this into bed.’

‘It’s quarter to seven,’ Henry said, and then realised what she meant. ‘Oh, God, yes.’

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the concept of Richard asking Mary out for Henry by yelling at her from a fic by TheMalhamBird found on tumblr [here](https://themalhambird.tumblr.com/post/178551360632/the-golden-ghost-im-so-sorry-henry-kind-of-took). Different circumstances but very close. I also imagine that this is after Richard, Anne and Robert have watched Henry and Mary quietly pine after each other for YEARS. 
> 
> TheMalhamBird has also posted a revised, edited version which fits better into Henry's recollections on AO3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481680).
> 
> Mary's engagement ring is based on Melanie Casey's "In The Sky With Diamonds" Ring which you can view [here](https://www.melaniecasey.com/products/in-the-sky-with-diamonds-ring?).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Since We Were Young](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481680) by [TheMalhamBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMalhamBird/pseuds/TheMalhamBird)


End file.
